Heart Of Gold
by Lauryn Vi
Summary: In the heart of Beijing city, he meets a young woman with the most curious intentions. (And other "meet-cute" vignettes.)
1. Heart of Gold

My first HZGG fic, because I was inexplicably inspired YEARS (decades?) since I last watched the drama. I fairly inhaled all the available stories here and desperately wished the fandom was about 10x bigger. So here is my modest contribution.

*** Originally planned to be a series of one-shots, but currently completed as a stand alone piece. Summary edited to reflect this. ***

Would LOVE any feedback. Working with these characters in this universe is still so new to me. xx

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Heart of Gold

"Shao ye!"

It took Yong Qi several moments to realize Er Tai was trying to get his attention.

For one, it was loud. The streets of Beijing were crowded, especially in the afternoon on a warm spring day. Everybody seemed to be out. Women bargained for vegetables with a discerning eye, while men stood in groups, exchanging the day's news, and children scrambled underfoot, chasing each other and being chased by imaginary creatures. The bustle was a welcome change for a young prince used to order, but it was an assault on his palace senses.

For another, it took him a minute to realize it was _him_ Er Tai had been calling. He was, and had always been, Yong Qi to his closet friend. While Er Tai addressed him by his formal title when occasion dictated, "shao ye" was reserved solely for trips into the city. Such outings and errands off palace grounds were becoming more frequent now that he was older, but they were still rare enough that Yong Qi felt almost like a different person, answering to an alien name.

But the main reason Yong Qi didn't immediately respond to Er Tai, was because he'd been distracted by a girl.

It wasn't how she looked, exactly, that had caught his attention, although he'd _noticed_ her. The girl, perhaps in her late teens, on the verge of womanhood, was wearing plain peasant clothes – a simple cotton shirt and pants in light purple with a decorative trim. Her hair was piled in coils around her head, but a handful of braids spilled playfully past her shoulders. She had been wandering down the middle of the road, leisurely, almost carelessly. Rather _too_ aimlessly for a girl out alone, he'd thought, as she passed him moments earlier. Her eyes were cast down demurely, but he saw her lashes flickering as she went by, and knew her darting glances were seeing everything.

And then, only because he was looking, he saw her pick pocketing. As she passed a hunched elderly man leaning heavily on a cane, her hand slipped deftly into his pocket, a movement so subtle he almost missed it.

Yong Qi froze, staring at her retreating back.

 _Thief_ , he wanted to call, but he was held by shock and the innate reflex not to draw attention to himself.

He blinked, trying to marshal his thoughts. The elderly man hobbled past him, and Yong Qi frowned. He noted the rough quality of his clothes, the deformed fingers that gripped the cane, undoubtedly from years of hard work and malnutrition, and the holes in his shoes, scuffed from the way he shuffled along. What could he have for that girl to take, and how did she know he had anything at all?

He looked around, searching for a glimpse of the girl. The thief. He caught a flash of purple. She had wandered off to the side of the road away from him. Her entire demeanor had changed. She seemed charged, full of energy. There was suddenly a little bounce to her step, and her eyes sparkled as she looked around, as though caught between curiosity and excitement, a girl on a much-awaited adventure into town.

Yong Qi was strangely impressed despite himself. Was this all a part of her act, a way to cover her trail?

"Wait a moment," he murmured to Er Tai, craning to keep an eye on the girl. "I'll be right back."

"What?" Er Tai frowned, eyebrows creeping up his forehead as he caught hold of his friend's sleeve, trying to catch his eye. "Aiy aiy aiy, I'm not letting you walk around by yourself in the middle of Beijing. Ah Ma told me to keep an eye on you!"

"You know he has no choice but to say that whenever you're out with me," Yong Qi retorted, still entirely distracted. "Don't worry – it'll be just a minute."

He turned into the crowd, ignoring Er Tai's mutter of exasperation, and could almost sense him rolling his eyes at his retreating back.

Yong Qi caught up to the girl just in time to see her bound up to another stranger – a stooped elderly woman this time, carrying two bulging bags. Another victim.

Caught between disapproval and fascination, he paused where he was, half-hidden from her by a vendor and his cart, where he could see without being seen.

"Nai nai!" He heard her voice for the first time, clear and bright, like polished brass. "Those bags look awfully heavy. Let me give you a hand."

She smiled back at the face peering up at her in surprise. Yong Qi noticed the old woman's eyes were clouded on one side, and doubted she could see very well at all.

"Here, let me carry these for you," the girl said cheerfully, as the woman surrendered her bags. For a wild moment, Yong Qi wondered if she was about to run off with them. "Tell me where you live."

"Good girl." The old woman nodded appreciatively. Gripping the girl's sleeve with a clawed hand, she nudged her in the direction of her home. Yong Qi followed at a distance, hoping he would not have far to go, or Er Tai would verbally skin him by the time he returned.

He trailed the duo down two streets, to a quieter part of the city.

"Nai nai," the girl was saying, "tell me about your grandchildren."

The elderly woman chuckled. "Who says I have grandchildren?"

The girl made a sound between a laugh and a scoff. "You have potato here enough to feed a village. How many do you have?"

"Four. The oldest is twelve, and the youngest is only two. They're good children – they take care of each other."

"Children need more meat, nai nai."

Now it was the older woman's turn to scoff. "And pray tell, where am I going to get the money to buy meat? I'm a widow, and my son died just this past winter, leaving behind a sickly wife and four children."

The girl made a sympathetic sound, but said nothing.

The two of them slowed, and stopped in front of a squat building, it's entrance a mere hole in the wall. Yong Qi stopped as well, feeling his heart rate pick up. Was this girl now going to steal from this elderly woman with the hoard of mouths to feed, who lived in _this_ sort of place?

"Thank you, girl." The elderly woman patted her hand, affectionately. "My joints – they're not what they once were."

"It's not a problem." The girl had a radiant smile, and even Yong Qi could have believed her sincerity. "I hope your grandchildren will always have enough to eat."

As she handed the bags back to the old woman, Yong Qi saw a flash of something coppery in her hand as it dipped briefly into the woman's bag.

What _was_ she doing?

He watched her, while she watched just as silently as the woman disappeared into the hole in the wall. Suddenly, she whirled around to him, before Yong Qi had time to retreat.

"And you, why are you following me?" Her voice, so sweet just moments ago, sounded almost brash, like she was ready for a fight. But was she defending, or attacking?

"Following you?" Yong Qi repeated blandly.

"Don't think I didn't notice. I passed you back _there –_ " she waved an impatient hand in the general direction of where they'd come. "So how did you end up _here_? Were you also helping an old lady with her groceries?"

Yong Qi looked into her blazing brown eyes. Her eyes were a challenge, her straightforward manner and dripping sarcasm inviting him to lose his palace-bred etiquettes and speak freely. But Yong Qi couldn't quite figure out of he should engage her as a lady, as a criminal, or as something else entirely.

He moved closer, now that he'd been found out. "What are _you_ doing?"

The girl pressed her lips together. She stayed silent, but neither did she look abashed at being caught red handed.

"Were you really only helping an old lady with her groceries?" His tone was gentler than he intended. For some reason, he couldn't quite levy the accusation he'd meant to on the slip of a girl standing in front of him.

She bristled, anyway. "Perhaps I was. Perhaps I wasn't. You can think whatever you like," she told him, huffily.

"Stealing is wrong," he persisted, his voice still quiet.

" _Stealing?_ Is that what you think I'm doing?" For a moment, the girl stared at him. Then she laughed, and it wasn't a happy sound. "Never mind. Look at you, standing there in your fancy clothes (Yong Qi had intentionally worn his _least_ fanciest clothing into the city). You're probably a rich merchant's son, and I bet your house is bigger than this entire block. You probably have a roomful of cooks and a servant to wipe for you after using the toilet. Do you know what it's like not having enough to wear? Do you know what it's like to be hungry? _Shao ye_ , you've never wanted for anything, have you? You wouldn't understand."

Yong Qi couldn't remember the last time anyone had spoken to him with this kind of insolence, this kind of anger. The words seemed to tumble from her as if she couldn't control it. But he stood there, and let her dress him down. For she was right about one thing – evidentially more than one thing, minus the crude imagery of the toilet – he didn't understand.

He didn't know her life, or what hardships she'd met that had her resorting to petty crime.

"So help me," he said, pointedly, when it became clear the girl was out of breath. Her eyes widened. "Help me understand."

She sighed, rolling her eyes like she was speaking to a child, or to someone extremely daft. "That old man back there – he's disabled. Just look at the way he limps. Without a new pair of shoes, his feet will chafe. It would cause injury, maybe infection. He could die. And this lady… I knew by the bags she carried that she was feeding a whole family, and by the way she held herself that it wasn't a happy situation. She looked resigned… but not yet ready to give up." The girl sighed again, but it was a different sort of sound. He had the impression that she had gotten lost in some unnamed emotion, and had forgotten he was there.

Yong Qi was silent for a minute, processing her words, and it took another minute for the implications to hit. He stared hard at her then, startled into taking a step forward, so he was almost right in front of her. "What are you saying? You mean – were you… you were _giving_ them money?"

The girl's expression brightened considerably as he caught on. "It wasn't obvious, was it? It's not as hard as it looks. I do know some _qing gong_ – and it's not all about walking on water and flying through the air, you know (as though Yong Qi ever thought that). I can be stealthy."

"But you – you are…" Yong Qi shook his head slowly, lost in wonder.

"Just a girl?" She supplied, cheekily. She was filled with vibrancy, now that she wasn't glaring at him.

"No! Well… yes, but – " He didn't know quite how to say what he wanted to say, but he knew he hadn't left Er Tai standing in the middle of the busy Beijing intersection just to follow a girl. He had been chasing a riddle, armed with the unsettling sense that something was not quite what it seemed. The puzzle had left him suspicious yet fascinated, wary and touched. Had left him humbled as he came up hard against a most unexpected twist.

And now he had an answer, of sorts, in the form of this girl with the giant doe eyes and inquisitive brow, whose spoke like a crass soldier and wore her emotions on her sleeve. Who was boastful and generous, impertinent, impatient, with a heart of gold. From the performances he'd witnessed, Yong Qi had no doubt she could lie, and lie well, and yet she was authentically, alarmingly transparent.

But somehow, he was left with only more questions, a desire to know more about her that went beyond curiosity.

In the end, he asked the least offensive. "And you? Do you have excess enough that you can afford to give it away like this?"

The girl shrugged. "I earn my money, and we make do. Today was a good day – we earned more than expected. Where I live, I already support an entire host of old and young people with no blood relation to me – why does it matter who I help?" She sounded almost defensive. "We all have to look out for each other."

Yong Qi couldn't help the look of incredulousness that had crossed his face. He had more questions as he listened. _Where did she live? Who did she live with? What had happened that made such a young woman into the primary provider for her home?_ But the questions slipped his mind at her bold declarations. She sounded more stoic than heroic, but it took his breath away.

How many books had he read? How many lectures had he sat through at the schoolhouse? How many hours had he sat – sometimes stood – by his father's side, listening to the latest policies and problems of their country? He had studied economics, analyzed battles, prosecuted criminals.

And here was this girl, goodness personified, who was doing the work of a country with no expectation of recognition or promise of reward. If only his father could hear her. If only his court could hear her.

But she was only telling him. And perhaps he needed to hear it, most of all. He'd thought the worst of her, but she'd brought out her best.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She was tilting her head, looking at him curiously, and he realized he'd let the silence go on far too long.

He took a slow breath. "Admiration," he told her honestly.

Her intake of breath was one of surprise. "For me?" Her brows furrowed. She was not used to praise.

He nodded earnestly and moved to stand closely next to her, ever aware he was overstepping the boundaries of propriety. He did not know how to speak as unreservedly as she had, but he hoped she could hear the sincerity in his words. "I misjudged you – forgive me. I never expected to find myself so inspired in the backstreets of Beijing. You're a good person, doing a good thing. Really."

Her face flushed in pleasure and she looked down with a smile and a shrug, ducking her head, speechless for the first time since they'd met.

He smiled back, catching her eye as she peered at him from beneath those unusually long lashes. They stood, smiling foolishly at each other, for surely longer than was necessary or appropriate.

"I should get going, it'll be dark soon," she announced suddenly, shaking him out of the moment. He thought he could detect a hint of reluctance.

Yong Qi nodded, just as unwillingly. "As should I – my companion will be cursing everything about me by the time I get back." She shared a chuckle at this.

There was a bewildering moment of awkwardness as both tried to figure out how to extract themselves from the other.

When they'd managed it, the girl gave him a swift grin before turning away. She'd taken a few steps away from him before turning back just as abruptly. "Don't follow me, anymore."

Yong Qi had made no effort to move. "I'm glad I did," he said.

They shared another smile.

She turned again. Another few steps. She had almost made it to the end of the street. This time, she twisted to look back at him. "If you ever find yourself with more than you need, maybe you could join me."

No _Shao ye._ No biting sarcasm. Just sincerity, radiating from her entire being.

He felt something twist in his chest. If only she knew. Yong Qi nodded at her, not trusting himself to speak.

She gave him one last smile and a wave, before disappearing around the corner. He waited just a beat longer, suppressing the urge to call after her, before turning to ford his way back into the crowds to where Er Tai was waiting.

 _I heard what you said._

 _I do have more to give. I have everything to give._

 _Who are you?_


	2. The Dream

A/N(1): So there are more instalments, after all! The summary has been edited (again) to reflect this.

Still in the theme of "first meetings".

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The Dream

The vision had all the qualities of a dream.

A small two-storied house made of wood and stone with adobe-tiled roofing, longer than it was tall, was nestled in a bed of greenery, half hidden from the road by two ginormous weeping willows. It was surrounded by meadows, embraced by the arms of two gently sloping hills, which quickly gave way to towering cliffs not far in the distance. The house was connected to the main road by a winding, barely-there dirt path, as though it couldn't make up its mind whether it wanted to be a part of the real world or not.

When the emperor signaled a stop and the clatter of horse's hooves and creaking carriage wheels ceased, the young boy could hear the clear, undisrupted melody of birdsong, the buzzing of flying insect wings, and – although he couldn't see it from his place in the carriage – the lively sound of a stream bubbling by.

The very air, with the dampness and fragrance of springtime, seemed magical, the stuff of fables.

For a moment, everyone was still, as though taking in the scene through one collective inhale.

Then, a guard positioned in front of them broke rank to double back on his horse, stopping in front of the carriage window to give report. One of the horses had cast a shoe. They were still over two hours ride from the nearest town, and there looked to be rainclouds on the horizon. Would the emperor like to stop here to wait out the rain?

The emperor peered out into the surroundings.

"Not a house on either side for miles," the guard confirmed.

The monarch chuckled. "No, I wouldn't imagine so, unless I miss my guess about what kind of dwelling this is."

"Never, _Huang Shang_ ," the guard said quickly, lowering his head in lieu of prostration.

" _Ai Lao Ye_. Do not forget."

"Yes, _Huang – Ai Lao Ye_."

The emperor nodded. "Very well, we stop here." He did not seem at all put off by the delay in their travel plans. Rather, his smile was one of amusement. It was a smile the young boy rarely saw at home.

The small caravan made their way single file along the winding dirt path, the carriage bumping slowly along as the horse picked his way between the divots.

As they pulled up in front of the house, the boy and the emperor waited as the head guard walked up to the door. The knock sounded deafening, a sound that seemed to violate some sacred space that was rarely disturbed. They watched as someone came to the door, standing slightly in the shadows, listening as the guard made his case. The boy knew by now how the story would go – they were a family of traveling merchants on their way between towns. They had traveled a long way and they were tired, and might they stop by for a rest and perhaps a cup of tea? The guard would end with generous compensation for the host.

His eyes fell on a small stone sculpture near the front door. It was engraved with a carving he recognized, a religious symbol denoting the home of a nun.

So this _was_ a sacred space, after all. The young boy couldn't decide if the landscape was _too_ earthly for a nun, or if it was the perfect, idyllic place – a little piece of heaven.

Was he, perhaps, merely visiting a dream?

After all, he was _here_. Handpicked amongst all his brothers to follow his father's footsteps – quite literally – on a trip incognito into the _jiang hu,_ with only a select few of his father's court and a handful of guards and maids. His father told him this trip would expand his horizons. _Huang Eniang_ said it was consolation for his mother's passing. Whichever it was, he was _here._ Hardworking and filial, he had his father's approval, he knew – but he'd never dreamed of being the favourite.

A clatter shook him out of his thoughts, and he peered out the window to see the entire caravan dismounting. The emperor himself was standing and preparing to exit the carriage. He turned, and although the command was softened with a smile, the boy couldn't help but obey immediately. "Come along, son."

The young prince trailed his father the emperor from the carriage, up the stone steps, through the small courtyard, and into the house of the nun.

In contrast to the richness offered by the nature outside, the interior of the house was plain and simple – and crowded, as their small party all squeezed inside. Wooden chairs lined the walls of the sitting room, just enough to seat the emperor, his son, and his handful of advisors. Two women wearing plain grey robes entered to pour them tea. _Novices_ , the boy recalled, thinking back to his religion texts. The room was quiet, and he shifted, trying to adjust to the contrast of being indoors.

His father noticed. "My son," he said in a low voice, leaning across the small table toward him. "Why don't you run along outside for awhile? Get some exercise. We've been cooped up inside the carriage all day."

The prince stared for only a second. The words were unexpected – he'd been prepared to sit with the men – but he didn't need to be told twice. He was not used to his father being so lax about his whereabouts, particularly without his nursemaid around.

He exited the door that opened toward the back of the house. Despite two weeks on the road, he still half expected to see guards flanking either side of the doorway – but there was nobody there, and nobody stopped him.

The air had thickened in the time he'd been inside, promising rain. But he looked around in delight. If he'd learned anything about his sojourn out from the palace, it was that freedom did not come easy. And freedom was intoxicating.

Before the young prince could decide where to go or how to spend this precious freedom, a stick suddenly materialized at his side and only a lucky jump saved him from a painful hit to the ribs. Before he could shout, his muscles reacted of their own accord, and he flipped backward in a swift motion to land at the assailant's back, ready to defend. His hand shot out to twist the attacker's arm in a move to pin them down, his other hand going to the small dagger at his belt, only to realize at the last moment the arm was attached to the body of a young girl even smaller than himself, who yelped in pain and tried to yank free.

The prince let go hurriedly, with a gasp.

" _Yong shi hao sheng shou."_ The girl straightened, turning to him with a mischievous bow. Her dark hair escaped her braids in little wisps around her face, and she had the biggest eyes of anyone he had ever seen.

"I could have killed you!" He breathed, the wind knocked out of him by a mix of surprise, exasperation and anger.

She shook her head. "I knew you wouldn't. I watched you arrive – you and your entourage. You're too… honourable. You even _walk_ like a noble."

"My father's entourage," he muttered quickly.

The girl only raised her eyebrows.

"Who are you?" He asked, curiosity getting the better of him as the shock of her most unexpected attack wore off, but the shock of _her_ remained. It was a nun's home, he remembered.

"Who are _you_?" She shot back.

"Do you live here?" He tried again, just as she persisted, "what are you doing here?"

"We're passing by," he answered, even as she spoke over him. "Yes, I've been here as long as I can remember."

They both fell silent, looking at each other, seizing the other up, until she suddenly giggled. He couldn't help smiling, although he tried to hide it in his sleeve.

"Will you teach me to do what you just did? You moved so fast. We could practice sparring." She held the stick out for him.

He shook his head and took a step back. " _Gu niang,_ I wouldn't dare."

"Why?"

"You're a girl."

She pouted. "Why should that matter?"

"I can't spar with a girl. It would be unchivalrous."

"In a life or death situation, would that matter?"

The young prince paused, frowning. He had never thought about it – never had _reason_ to think about it. His instructors had always been men. Only princes and sons of his father's advisors were trained in the fighting arts. His father's armies were all men.

"I suppose not," he allowed finally. "But when would you ever be in a life or death situation? Someone will protect you."

"Not me." The girl's eyes flashed, and she scowled.

Suddenly, the pieces seemed to fall into place as the prince read her expression. A young girl, who seemed a little wild, residing with a nun.

She was an orphan. Abandoned? Or had her family died?

He had never met an orphan. He thought back to his mother's death. He remembered the loneliness, the sadness, the lost feeling of a little boy without his mother. But he _had_ mothers – two dozen other _niang niangs_ – had siblings, had servants, and most of all, had the good graces and doting affection of an emperor who also happened to be his father. He had a place in this world.

He studied her again, all fire and anger and so _small_. Did the world have a place for somebody like her?

Then another thought hit him. As a prince, did he have – what was it? a responsibility? an opportunity? – to create one?

"Okay," he said finally. "Come here." He pointed to the space directly in front of him.

The young girl brightened immediately, bounding up to place enthusiastically.

"What's your name?"

"Xiao Yan Zi."

"Like the bird?"

" _Exactly_."

Her hands were tiny in his. He taught her how to grip the stick, how to land a firm strike, how to dodge a hit. He showed her the exercises he did every morning, using the stick in lieu of his sword. The young prince couldn't truthfully state she was a good student. She was a fast learner, and her movements were nimble, but she was impatient and distracted. She interrupted him more than she let him finish. She treated it as a game.

But she amused him, surprised him, made him laugh. In shock, yes, but also in delight. At some point, he stopped thinking of their lesson as something he'd been cornered into doing, but rather as something he wanted to do. Xiao Yan Zi never thought to ask _his_ name, so excited was she to learn and play. He felt relieved, for some reason, and was rather pleased when she started calling him _ah ge_. It was close, was familiar even, without giving anything away.

When they tired of stick-fighting, they went to the small barrack where the emperor's horses had been stabled. He let her pat the horses, showed her where to stand so she wasn't in danger of being kicked, and dug around in one of the packs for a few apples. She giggled as he showed her how to feed them.

Xiao Yan Zi had an infectious laugh. She laughed easily, often, and without restraint. The young prince found that he wanted to make her laugh, and he liked hearing it, wanted to respond to it.

Later, she led him into the fields by the house, paths crisscrossing like a maze. She showed him how to make flower garlands, picking delectable early wildberries along the way.

She led him up a big hill, and they both rolled down until their clothes were covered in grass. She only laughed as she looked at him, grass and berry stains smeared across his chin.

The prince tilted his face toward her, nestled comfortably in the grass beside him. He felt content – happier and lighter than he had in a long time. The feeling suddenly reminded him of one more trick he wanted to show her. "You are named for a bird – but can you fly?"

She shook her head, guileless and smiling. "No. People can't fly."

Playfully, he raised an eyebrow. "Yes, they can." He held out his hand for hers, and she took it without hesitation. He pulled her to her feet, then shifted so he could wrap an arm securely around her – she was light, but he didn't want to risk dropping her.

She laughed, trust shining in her eyes. "What are you doing?"

He looked at her. "Are you ready?"

"For what?"

His eyes sparkled. The young prince took a breath, and jumped, his _qing gong_ taking them high into the air. She shrieked in surprise as they flew into the sky, and landed on the thick branch of a nearby tree.

Xiao Yan Zi's eyes were wide and full of glee. "How did you do that?" She demanded.

"It's called _qing gong_."

"Teach me."

"It takes a lot of practice." His voice was half serious, half teasing. He found himself unable to be fully serious around her.

She pouted. "Can we fly again?"

He smiled, pleased at how delighted he had made her. And then it began to rain – big fat droplets that soaked the ground on impact.

They looked at each other. He sighed. "We should go in."

"Why? Do you want to?"

"No."

She shook her head. "Then don't." She placed a small hand on his chest, over his heart. "Poor _ah ge_. No one's ever taught you to _want_ , have they?"

Silently, he clutched her hand in his slightly bigger one. Her face was all eyes and all heart. A prince's duty did not include want. But now he knew how it felt. And he was addicted.

When they finally did go inside, soaked to the core, everyone stared at them. The emperor frowned slightly at their bedraggled appearance. Suddenly, a maidservant appeared at Xiao Yan Zi's shoulder and whisked her upstairs, murmuring severely in her ear. Several of his father's own maids glanced at each other, before one rushed out the door and returned moments later with a dry set of clothes wrapped securely in a bag. He too, was ushered upstairs to bathe and change.

The washroom was small and the washbasin plain, but the water was warm and plentiful. The young prince took his time, reliving his adventure in his mind as he bathed and dressed.

He could hear his father's booming laugh before he even got back downstairs. His father had an unmistakable laugh. He paused on the stairs, bewildered. Peeking around the doorway, his confusion turned to shock.

The emperor was still sitting next to the simple lacquered table, and on his knee perched the prince's new friend. Just as a little swallow would, she chattered away, her hands making little fluttering gestures of excitement, swaying slightly as the emperor gave another full-bellied roar of laughter. Beside him, his men were hiding grins behind hands and sleeves.

When the emperor was happy, everyone was happy.

His father looked up, catching him hesitating in the doorway. "Ah, you are back! Come here, son." He went over, and his father pulled him close to his side, as close to a hug as he would ever get. "So you met this gem in the yard?"

He nodded. "She chased me with a stick."

Xiao Yan Zi huffed. "I did _not_. I was just testing his reflexes."

The emperor laughed heartily once again, telling the room at large, "I haven't been this amused in years." Fondly, he ruffled her hair. "I do wish I had you as a little _kai xin guo_ by my side at all times."

The young prince smiled at the thought as the little girl beamed. To have Xiao Yan Zi all the time – he'd like that, too. He looked up to see two of his father's men look meaningfully at each other.

"Now now." The movement had caught his father's eye, too, and it was the voice of an emperor that spoke, cutting sharply – though not nearly as sharply as the prince had heard it before – through the room. "We have imposed enough. The rain has stopped. We ought to get going."

In one practiced movement, everyone around him stood. The emperor gave Xiao Yan Zi one last nudge, and she smiled and scampered back to where one of the novices waited in the shadows. He patted his son on the shoulder, before getting to his feet with a groan.

The young prince followed his father obediently out the door, the rest of the entourage following in their wake.

As everyone prepared to continue their journey, the prince sat at the carriage window, feeling an odd sense of loneliness. He was no fool. He knew his father the emperor only needed to lift a finger to see his wish carried out. His men would have seen to it – a few words, a piece of gold or two, and Xiao Yan Zi would be in the carriage with them, instead of standing with the novices by the door.

But perhaps even his father could not capture a bird. Maybe he knew that he would not want to.

Xiao Yan Zi waved at them as the carriage began to move, first with one arm, then two. The emperor chuckled, muttering to himself in amusement. The prince waved back. She blew him a kiss, just before he rounded a bend in the road, before the enormous weeping willow blocked her from view.

The young prince remembered her always. Not _her_ , precisely. Over the years, the memories blurred, until he could hardly recall anything about her; not how she looked, not what they'd said, not much of what they'd done. Year after year, he worked hard – studied hard, and trained harder. Earned the approval of his teachers, the admiration of his brothers, the respect of his father. And yet, somewhere buried beneath layers of princely duties and filial obligations and courtly manners, was a young boy who believed in hope. Believed in happiness. Believed in _want_.

For much like a dream that faded at dawn and left nothing but an imprint, a feeling – he seemed to recall that such things were possible.

* * *

A/N (2): I wasn't sure there were going to be any more instalments after the last one, due to lack of muse and inspiration - but I should have known better. (Last year, it was watching "Chinese Restaurant" that triggered it... no idea what it was this time around.)

I've had this idea for a long time, and I loved getting a chance to tackle this "first meeting" from a child's POV - it's an entirely different writing style and thought process (even while knowing full well how implausible this entire scenario is...)

Would love to hear what you think! Thanks for reading. xx


	3. I've Never Done this Before

The next (and likely final) instalment in this "meet cute" series. The genre for this one is decidedly HUMOUR - for what is a story between Yong Qi and Xiao Yan Zi without plenty of fluff and giggles? (Also what happens when your kids are in bed and you are awaiting the NYE countdown. ;) Great way to end 2019!)

Wishing everyone a very happy New Years! xx

* * *

I've Never Done this Before

The imperial exam was no joke. For the third time in as many days, the emperor's fifth son wondered whether he would have the stamina to even sit the multi-day examinations, never mind the intellect and expertise to pass them.

Yong Qi felt both awestruck and humbled as he helped Zhou Shifu administer and oversee this year's court exams, the rooms filled with the country's brightest and most learned scholars. Becoming a _jinshi_ – a _zhuangyuan_ – was a title that was earned, won after years of hard work and dedication. He was a prince, a role he'd been born into, a role he'd been given – and while he considered himself both hard working and dedicated, it just didn't feel the same.

It was a feeling that made him feel strangely restless, almost… resentful, that he would never have the chance to be anything but what was predestined for him. Although immediately he felt ashamed at the idea. As it was, he'd been given plenty of chances to prove himself, to his father, to his country.

He was simply tired, Yong Qi told himself, as he relaxed at Zhou Shifu's residence on the last night. The location wasn't far from the palace, but given the gruelling days and the emperor's insistence on giving his sons an intimate understanding of the imperial examinations, it was helpful to be close to Zhou Shifu at all times. The head invigilator was a close colleague of his own teacher Ji Shifu. Both were brilliant men, but Ji Shifu was gentle and mild mannered, and always appreciated a laugh with the boys. His colleague, by contrast, seemed stern and harsh – good qualities for administering the imperial exam, the prince supposed, but trying on the nerves.

Zhou Shifu's home was comfortable and quiet, and the set of rooms he'd been given had a beautiful view of the gardens. Not that he'd had much of a chance to enjoy them, returning from the exams well past midnight and tumbling straight into bed, and up again at the crack of dawn the next day.

Resolutely, he opened a window as he nursed a late cup of tea. The early summer moon was bright, the rock garden thrown into relief, its crevices deep shadows in the night. It was quiet, calm, and _relaxing_.

A sudden rustle at the far end of the garden caught his attention, followed almost immediately by the rush of footsteps and shouting. Yong Qi jumped to his feet, the magic of the night instantly shattered.

 _What on earth?_

A lone figure flew through the garden, jumping between rocks and flipping across pathways. Not far behind came Zhou Shifu's own guards, cumbersome spears leading the way. They were too far for him to make out the shouting, although he could pick out the words _stop_ and _thief_ from time to time. The prince's well-trained eye focused on the object of their chase, the figured dressed in black, head covered in black cloth. While outnumbered, he was fast and light on his feet, although there was something about his _qing gong_ that reminded the prince of a child at play.

In the minutes it took him to process what he was seeing, Yong Qi was already slipping silently out of his rooms. A mere thief was harmless, perhaps, but he was a guest at Zhou Shifu's home, and he had a duty to protect it. A line of guards rushed chaotically past him along the nearest pathway, not nearly as efficient as those in the palace.

The prince scanned the garden, spotting the intruder now well ahead of him. His own _qing gong_ was sure and swift. With a few jumps and flips, he landed near where he'd seen the thief, keeping his steps silent.

 _Xiao zei, let's see where you get to…_ He listened for the telltale rustle of clothing, the soft padding of feet, predicting the thief's movements and position. Like a tiger, he stalked the man, leaping at the right moment, the proverbial prey landing right into his grasp.

With a muffled grunt, the figure in black twisted, fists lashing for him. Yong Qi was ready, blocking both hits easily. They exchanged blows, but it was clear the assailant was no match for him. He was trained, but sloppily so. The prince maneuvered so he was at the thief's back, grabbing him, lifting him high in the air, spinning to throw him and pin him down…

"Stop, stop! _Hao han rao ming!_ I yield!"

It was a woman's voice. Shocked, Yong Qi froze. "What?"

"I said stop! Please!" The woman, still in his grasp, flailed and gasped again.

"I heard that bit!" Hastily, he set her down, but kept her arms pined behind her back. Now that she was next to him, standing side by side, he could tell that she was shorter than he, her body slim, softer than the men he was used to fighting.

"Who are you? What is going on?" Confusion kept him from shouting for the guards right away. "What did you steal?"

"Nothing! I swear, I haven't taken anything!"

"Then why are the guards chasing you?"

She tried to twist toward him, but his grip remained tight. Her voice was defiant. "Maybe I just like Master Zhou's gardens, and wanted to take a stroll?"

Not to be trifled, his grip tightened, and she winced. "You asked me to spare you. You'd better give me a good reason why."

"Okay, okay!" She tried unsuccessfully to shake him off. "I was only trying to help! There's an old lady I care for, she's sick. I – I heard there was a cream, that Zhou Shifu has a magical cream… that might help with wounds."

He stared. "How did you know about the cream?"

She paused, then confessed, voice almost petulant. "In the city we… hear things."

He snorted, ignoring her tone. If this woman knew about the cream, then her sources were better than most. If anything, it made her more dangerous.

"Take off your head scarf."

"How can I? You've trapped my arms!"

Reluctantly acknowledging this, Yong Qi released one arm, using his hip and his other arm to keep her firmly at his side. She huffed softly, but realizing she wasn't in any position to argue, reached up and unraveled the length of black fabric that hid her face.

Two long jet-black braids tumbled from the covering.

He gaped. _This_ was the thief who had the residence in an uproar, who the guards were chasing spears in hand, who fought him back with such ferocity and defiance? She was but a girl, even younger than himself.

There was something strangely familiar about her, as she peered up at him with huge eyes fringed with extraordinarily long lashes – as though he had seen those eyes before, that expression, framed by a different facial structure, a different hairstyle, anchored in a different time, a different age.

He felt an odd sense of wistfulness, a sense that he knew her, but did not know her.

The moment stretched on as they looked at each other. His brow furrowed. "Have we met before?"

She too, looked him over searchingly, eyes bright and gleaming. "I don't know," she said at last. There was something both innocent and earnest about her, as if with unraveling the headscarf, she had also peeled away the layers he'd first come up against, the brashness that'd made him suspicious and defensive.

Scuffling sounded nearby. The guards had caught up at last. Yong Qi hesitated briefly, then made a decision. "Shh. Come with me."

He heard her exhale sharply, but she let him pull her away from the approaching men. They weaved between towering rock sculptures, pausing here and there so they could assess where they were and make sure they weren't being followed.

When they made it back to his rooms, Yong Qi looked quickly up and down the corridor, before ushering her inside and shutting the door behind him. As a prince, he had leeway and automatic deference, but even he would have a lot of explaining to do if Zhou Shifu caught wind he was habouring a fugitive and a thief.

He watched as she looked briefly around the room, then collapsed into a chair – a most unladylike, exaggerated gesture that had him raising his eyebrows in surprise yet trying not to smile. She didn't seem suspicious, didn't seem worried. Instead, she seemed rather delighted by this turn of events.

Was he really knowingly breaking all the rules for this…waif?

"This is not a game," he said, annoyed by her nonchalance and his own inexplicable behaviour.

She looked up. "I know," she said, her tone oddly reassuring.

He shook his head. "You can't just… sneak into an official's house!"

"I _know_ ," she said again. "Believe me, I wouldn't be doing it if there was any other way."

"Isn't there?"

"No." She looked somber, but then brightened considerably. "Although that was sort of exciting, wouldn't you say? And now I've met you!"

The prince shook his head again. This girl was insane. He'd never met anyone who was so… untamed, so carefree – and yet, wasn't that the reason she had barreled her way in in the first place, her concern for someone she was caring for? This girl was unlike anyone he'd ever met. "What's your name?"

She peered at him and raised an eyebrow warily. "Are you going to use it against me?"

"What? No, of course not!" He might be confused, but that was the farthest thing from his mind. "I saved you, didn't I? If I sold you out now, wouldn't that be rather like shooting myself in the foot?"

She scoffed. "I was doing just fine on my own, thank you." She hesitated briefly, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. "And it's… Xiao Yan Zi."

He couldn't help but smile.

"What?"

"It makes sense now, why you were flying around out there in the middle of the night. Of course, you're a bird!"

"Don't make fun – it's my real name."

"Really?"

"Well…" she paused. "I don't actually know. I don't know what my real name is. I was raised by a nun after I was left on her doorstep as an infant. I ran away when I was old enough, and roamed the streets of Beijing for a few years, before a sibling duo took pity on me and took me under their wing. I live with them now, with a host of other misfits they've rescued. If I did have a name at birth…" she shrugged, "no one's ever told me."

For a moment he was silent. His first instinct _was_ pity, but it seemed absurd when she spoke so matter-of-factly, with no trace of self-pity in her voice. In fact, he found her frankness rather… charming.

"And now… you seek this cream – "

She shrugged again, lightly this time, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "I just want to help those at the _da zha yuan_. It's the least I can do, when I now have a home, and people I call family."

He was slow to respond, his bafflement of the strange girl in front of him slowly solidifying into a sense of admiration. She, too, was working hard for a cause – and jolting the world while she was at it, because to him at least, she was electrifying.

Yong Qi felt himself responding to her openness. He offered her a genuine smile. "Well, I don't know if the cream is as magical as they claim… but it's made in the mountains of Yunan and I've been told has powerful healing properties."

Yes, his usual reticence seems to have evaporated entirely.

"You know about this cream?" Xiao Yan Zi watched as he walked over to the storage chest to retrieve a small vial from his belongings.

He brought it back to her, and sat down in the chair next to hers. "Yes, I do." Her eyes widened as he placed the vial in her hands, curling her fingers securely around the small bottle.

"How?" She breathed. When she looked at him, it was with a twinkle in her eye. "You didn't steal it, did you?"

He chuckled, no longer fazed by her playfulness. "No. I know about it because I was the one who gave it to Zhou Shifu."

He watched as her mouth made a perfect 'o'. "How is that – "

Before she could inquire further into his identity – and he _would_ have told her the truth, he knew – there came a loud banging on the door. Alarmed, they turned silently toward each other. Instinctively, he grasped her hands, as she fumbled to tuck the small vial of cream into her robes. He pulled her further from the door, into the bedchamber. They hovered by the doorway, listening to the footsteps of the maid as she went to answer the knock.

"Good evening," they heard her say calmly, although the aggressive pounding did not merit such a tone.

"We're searching for an intruder," the gruff voice of a guard announced brusquely.

"Wu Ah Ge has already retired for the night," the maid said, still calm. "There is nobody else here."

There were sounds of scuffling feet at the entrance. "We still have orders to search all rooms. Step aside."

As one, he and Xiao Yan Zi backed away from the door. Luckily, the heavy steps moved away, toward the other end of the suite first. He turned to her. She had gone white, pupils blown wide.

"Wu Ah Ge?" She repeated in a panicked whisper. " _Tian ah."_ She looked like she wanted to throw herself into the nearest chair. _"Tian ah tian ah tian ah._ I'm trapped here with an _Ah Ge?!"_

"Shhhh!" He grasped her arm and gave her a little shake. "Do you want the entire residence to hear you?"

"But you... you're a _prince._ " Xiao Yan Zi was still staring at him, dazed. "I did _not_ ask for this. It's too much."

He stared back, unsure whether he wanted to laugh or despair. "Haven't I proved I'm on your side? I'm trying to help you. If you get captured, it will be too late. Even my status will not be able to protect you."

He wasn't trying to scare her, but the threat worked. She grabbed both his arms. "What do we do?" She mouthed.

"Quickly, we need to hide you."

They both rushed to the table, and Xiao Yan Zi crouched down. The table was low, but it was still much too revealing.

"Over here!" He gestured her toward the wardrobe. He wrenched the door open, and they stared for a moment at the dusty shelving.

"I can't fit into that!" She whispered frantically.

They both looked to the bed. "Under the covers?" She asked.

Yong Qi shook his head. The guards were nothing if not thorough. He'd seen enough manhunts at the palace to know the first thing they would do is rip away the sheets.

"No." But thinking of palace intrigue gave him an idea. A wild, inconceivable, crazy idea. "Not unless…"

"What? What?"

He looked at her, suddenly very still. "Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Just say yes."

"Fine, yes. Just tell me your plan!"

"The bed." He tugged her toward the bed as he answered.

Xiao Yan Zi crawled onto the sleeping area, twisting to look at him. "But you just said – "

She fell silent as he slid in beside her, quickly freeing the silky privacy curtains so they surrounded the bed. He turned to her in the darkened space. "Xiao Yan Zi." He took a breath, hoping he wasn't about to horrify her. "We need to do this together."

Her eyes grew huge as she understood his meaning. The little colour that'd returned during their mad scramble drained from her cheeks, but still, she nodded gamely. Yong Qi felt something in his chest constrict as he watched her lie back. They were pretending. He was doing this to save her. And yet this entire proposition felt wrong.

Before he could let himself question it, he drew the covers over them, bracing his arms on either side of her head so he was leaning over her.

Hesitantly, she slipped her arms around his neck. He let the weight of her bring him closer, close enough to be convincingly intimate, close enough to feel the stir of her breath, close enough to see her swallow…

"Ha ha hahahaha."

"Shhh!" His eyes flew wide. "What was that?"

"I'm trying to be convincing!" She hissed against his cheek. "Isn't that what women do when they're flirting?"

"Flirting maybe! Not – not doing… this!"

They could hear the heavy footsteps again, now back in the main room, followed by the scraping of heavy objects, like furniture being moved around.

Her breathing was shallow, nervous. "Okay, okay… how about… Aaaaiyeee – "

He clamped a hand over her mouth. If the situation weren't so dire, he would have laughed. "That is the sound of a squealing animal in distress! Xiao Yan Zi, please!"

"I don't know, I've never done this before! You try!"

"I haven't either!"

The footsteps were moving closer. Several sets of them. Coming toward the bedchamber.

He stared down at her. Close enough he could see her pupils dilate in fear. Close enough to see the pulse point at her neck racing away.

His heart thudded, and then he lowered his lips to hers.

He felt her freeze under him, felt her jerk like she wanted to push him away, and pulled back slightly. "Trust me," he whispered against her mouth.

He pressed his lips back against hers, if for no other reason than to keep her from making some other ridiculous sound that would give them away. He felt her blink, eyelashes sweeping against him. He felt her body slowly unlock, bit by bit, felt her lips yield against his. Despite their precarious scenario, He felt himself respond, felt the kiss deepen. When her arms tightened around him, it wasn't for pretend.

The doors flew open, just as she let out a low moan. He responded, deep in his throat.

"Wu Ah Ge –"

And then silence. He knew what the guards had heard, what they were seeing. A tangle of arms, the silhouette of a young prince poised over a woman. They couldn't have been more convincing if they'd tried.

He shifted above her, the sheet rustling for good measure.

"What is it?" Yong Qi raised his head slightly, trying to make his breathing purposely uneven, his voice angry. "I'm occupied."

"Ahh … we, uh…" There were a very heavy pause, and what he imagined might be frantic gesturing, and then footsteps scrambling to retreat. "Sorry to intrude. Wu Ah Ge _qian sui qian sui qian qian sui._ "

The door shut at last.

Both of them held their position for several long seconds, hardly daring to breath.

Then, he exhaled a long sigh of relief, pushing himself up into sitting. Xiao Yan Zi threw her arms across both pillows, as though she were unraveling. " _Tian ah!"_

He put a finger to his lips. "Not so loud. They could come back."

She clamped her own hand over her mouth this time. After a minute or two, she started shaking, and he saw that she was giggling uncontrollably. Whether it was relief or nerves, he couldn't tell.

"It worked! How did you know it would work?"

Yong Qi shrugged. "I've been in the palace long enough. I know much of what goes on." A prince with a maid wasn't an unusual occurrence.

She peered up at him. "Have you ever…?"

"No!" He flushed. "I told you, never."

"Oh." Then, " – That was my first kiss."

He looked at her, feeling suddenly shy – which was odd given what they'd just been trying to give the impression of doing. "Forgive me. I wasn't trying to take advantage."

She blinked, suddenly reminding him of how those lashes had felt against his cheeks. "No – I know. It was… nice." She ducked away, blushing.

"Oh."

"And you were only trying to save my life."

"That is true." He peeled away the privacy curtains, and the lamps in the room suddenly seemed very bright. He padded to the window, opening the shutters to peer outside. "It seems quiet, but you had better stay awhile. The guards will be fussing for hours and security will be tight." He walked back to the bed where Xiao Yan Zi was still lying sprawled across it, and sat down at the edge. "I will go with you. We can go over the wall."

"Wu Ah Ge, are you doubting my _qing gong_?"

He hesitated, which gave her enough time to lob a pillow at him. He caught it deftly before it hit him in the face. Apparently, even princes were not exempt from flying projectiles in her eyes. The thought was oddly refreshing.

"Your form could use some finessing," Yong Qi said finally. And because he saw she had opened her mouth to protest, added, "we are all working towards becoming better. But no, I am not worried about your ability to flip over a wall. I am worried you might get caught. If we do, I am an _Ah Ge,_ after all. I can vouch for you."

She smiled. "Thank you, Wu Ah Ge."

He returned it, warmly. "For the record… my name is Yong Qi."

She scooted over to make some space for him on the bed. "If we're going to wait, you might as well make yourself comfortable. Yong Qi."

He was on the verge on refusing. Decorum and etiquette would dictate that he decline. And yet, what a night it'd been – he'd broken a string of rules, his actions hardly within the realm of propriety, but Yong Qi couldn't say he felt sorry for any of it.

Gingerly, he lay back against the spot that she indicated, this time leaving a carefully maintained space between them. They seemed content to lie there, neither feeling particularly inclined to move or talk.

He listened to her breathing as it gradually slowed. It had been a terrifying evening, if he were being honest. He was not normally impulsive, not normally rebellious. He did not normally come up with ideas that could verily amount to treason. He _never_ worried about getting caught.

And yet he felt exhilarated, revived… the world no longer the sluggish place it seemed when the night was just beginning.

And it was all this young woman, Xiao Yan Zi – whom he now found himself sharing a _bed_ with! – who was strange and erratic, yet unpretentious and inexplicably down to earth, despite her antics. She'd taken him for a wild ride, without even having left the residence. She'd made him forget about his reservations, made him laugh, made him… want. Yes, he'd definitely wanted _more_ , if he were honest with himself.

Not necessarily more of _that_ , the silly impression they'd been trying to pull over the guards, but more of _her,_ for whom life did not seem like a chore, but one large, grand adventure.

Xiao Yan Zi mumbled sleepily at him. "Wake me up when it's time to go."

He looked over at her, smiling fondly although she wasn't looking. "Okay, I will," he promised.

He would get her to safety, there was no question about it. He was a prince, and a prince always kept his word. But the emperor's fifth son had learned something important that night. Perhaps life was not as predestined as he'd always imagined. Perhaps life was meant to be full of surprises. Perhaps he did, after all, have choices to make, dreams to chase. If not now, then one day.

\- The end -


End file.
